


The only thing I know

by PoemAboutCitylights



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Missing someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 08:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14076984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemAboutCitylights/pseuds/PoemAboutCitylights
Summary: There are many things that Nico does not know.Of one, he is sure, though.*****Brocedes is sailing again, I repeat, Brocedes is sailing again.





	The only thing I know

 

It has been a long time since Nico has looked at Lewis.  
Sure, they have met at several sponsor events and have been engaged due to Mercedes stuff, but really looking at the Brit... it feels like a life time.  
When Nico strolls through the pit lane, he gets flashbacks of his time in Formula 1 everywhere he looks.

  
He sees himself in the mechanics that are no longer his, feels how his body sends adrenaline through his veins at the sight of heavy clouds above and witnesses how his mind tries to search for data he no longer has access to.  
A natural mechanism that will probably never wash away completely, at least not any time soon, with the way everything is still so clear, so vivid, so _real_.  
He sees himself in Lewis, too.  
Spots hints of their rivalry in how the Brit does not hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds, sees it in the way the other man smiles at him.  
Guarded, professional and - and that's what hurts the most - polite.  
There has never been anything polite between them.

  
It was either heated arguments or bitter silence, burning gazes or icy cold, tender kisses or attempts to eat the other one alive, but not _polite_.  
It sends thrills of anger down Nico's spine, makes him freeze on his spot and almost impossible to answer his co-host's questions.  
He knows that whatever he had with Lewis is gone.

  
The moment he left Formula 1, left the Brit behind, he had closed the door to whatever Lewis had been imagining. He had ended their rivalry, the duels on and off track, but he had also ended something else.  
Something neither of them had ever dared to address, something that had included drunken kisses after victories, soft whispers in the dark, promises both of them had never been able to live up to.  
And Nico has been aware that things would change again once he'd return to the Formula 1. The only thing that he has not expected, though, is that it would hurt hurt so much, that the look in Lewis' dark eyes, once so familiar, would burn him alive.

  
When the qualifying continues, he is glad that he has some time off camera, to think.  
What exactly has he thought would happen?  
He hasn't really spoken to Lewis in about 1 1/2 years.  
Longer, even, if one considers that they had barely talked in those last weeks of his final season with Mercedes.  
His last year in F1 had shattered whatever had been left of the friendship they had once shared.  
Had he wished, somewhere deep down inside of him, that they would be able to return to that friendship that had started to many years, so many lives ago?  
He hadn't expected that things would continue where they had left off, had he?  
With secret key cards, shared sleep at night and empty bed sides in the mornings?  
He simply doesn't know.  
Doesn't know anything, apart from the fact that he cannot keep his eyes off Lewis. Doesn't want to, either.

  
He is amazed by the way the other man moves, the way he speaks and how his dark eyes sparkle when he laughs. It reminds him of their shared youth, of easier days and Nico feels pain bubbling up his throat at the realization that Lewis without him in the same garage is a happier, a free Lewis.  
Is he free?  
Those first months after his retirement, he had felt more independent than he ever had. He surely had felt free, without all the pressure, the expectations, the media and the rivalry in his very own team.

  
However, things have shifted.  
While there has been a time, after his career end, when he has woken up full of energy, excitement for what was to come, he now more often than not finds himself missing something in his life.  
And Nico isn't stupid, so yes, he has thought of Lewis but he has pushed it aside for as long as possible.  
It no longer _is_ possible with the Brit right in front of his face.

After the qualifying, when the media job is done, for every one, Toto invites him into the Mercedes garage.  
It feels weird, though, that he is no longer allowed to simply walk in at any time, that he is a guest now. A familiar one, someone that is always welcome, but a guest nonetheless.  
He isn't really listening while Toto makes some smalltalk, instead he nods at the right passages, claps his ex-bosses' back once and laughs at a joke he does not catch, while his gaze is focused on Lewis and how he is talking to his guys, a wide smile on his face, shoulders relaxed.  
It's a sight he still isn't used to.

  
"Don't you want to go after him?" Toto eventually asks when the Brit disappears through a back door, probably off to change in his motorhome.  
"What?!" Nico asks, snapped out of his thoughts.  
Toto gives him a look that the German doesn't like at all. Too knowing, too caring and way too sympathetic.  
The older man lets out a sigh and takes a deep breath, "Don't you think that you two have suffered enough by now?"  
He isn't sure what Toto is speaking of, wonders whether he knows something that Nico does not but he knows better than question the other one.  
So he follows Lewis, heart beating in his throat, fingers clenched in the pocket of his jacket.  
He finds the Mercedes driver's motorhome locked and Nico closes his eyes before he decides to knock.  
What is he even doing here?  
He doesn't know, just like he does not know anything lately, not with how the only constant he has ever known, that thing between Lewis and him, is simply gone.

When Lewis opens the door, eventually, his racing suit is resting low on his hipbones, revealing his white fireproofs that make a nice contrast to his dark skin.  
His eyes widen at the sight of the German and for the split of a second, so short that Nico wonders if he is making things up, his guarded expression, the professional facade the Brit was worn those last weeks, falls off.  
But Lewis has always been exceptionally good at fooling people, so the poker face is back in an instant.  
All politeness is gone, though, when he speaks up.

  
"What are you doing here?"  
The German is not sure how he is supposed to answer to that.  
"Can I come in?" is what he eventually goes with, watching how Lewis' eyes flicker for a moment before he nods mechanically and guides him inside.  
Nothing has really changed in the Brit's space and it brings back memories that Nico isn't sure he'd rather forget.  
He wonders whether Lewis wants to forget.  
Whether he already has.  
But when he catches the Brit's face from the corner of his eye, he knows that the driver hasn't.

  
He is eying the black sofa at the end of the trailer with a frown and for a second, Nico allows himself to do just that as well, thinking of all these hours they have shared the small couch, legs tangled up, breath exhausted from a long race, mouths finding together for sloppy kisses once in a while.  
When their gazes meet again, Nico knows that Lewis is thinking of the same.  
And while he also knows that Lewis is over-thinking, as he always is, Nico simply goes for it and closes the distance between them, cupping his best friend's jaw with his hand before he brings their lips together.

  
It's testing and without any direction, insecure and relieving, thrilling and oh-so-tempting to feel Lewis' lips against his again, after months, after a whole _lifetime_.  
Lewis stills in his arms, goes completely tense and Nico's heart skips a beat.

  
"What the fuck are you doing, Nico?" the older one asks, brown eyes wide and also a little scared.  
But Nico doesn't know, doesn't find the right, nor any words, so he simply kisses Lewis again.  
Tries to show him what he feels by kissing him softly and tender and more caring than he probably ever has and he feels Lewis going soft against him, feels how the Brit fills up the remaining space between them and leans into the touch, instinctively, voluntarily.  
They are both breathing heavily when they finally break apart, staring at the other with wide eyes.

  
"What are you doing, Nico?" Lewis asks again, more quiet this time, just a soft brush of air against the German's lips.  
And Nico still doesn't know.  
Probably never has.  
But one thing he knows for sure is that he has missed Lewis like he has never missed anything else.  
That is what he tells the Brit.  
Lewis shakes his head in disbelief and kisses him, again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So...  
> Sime of you probably know that I'm a complete sucker for brocedes and they were what started pretty much everything for me.  
> Since Nico is now a full-time TV expert for German TV and speaks of Lewis basically all the fucking time, I've decided that they're back to being canon.  
> And wrote this little piece.  
> There are probably many more to come.  
> God, how I've missed these to.  
> Fuck.


End file.
